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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24699694">Just One Night With You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sashataakheru/pseuds/Sashataakheru'>Sashataakheru</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Taskmaster (UK TV) RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Clothes Kink, Community: seasonofkink, Cuddles, Fighting for Dominance, Joe is an Extremely Bitchy Dom, Kneeling, M/M, Male Prostitution, Miscommunication, Obedience, Oral Sex, Seduction, Sensation Play, Swearing, Touch, Wingfic, allusions to trauma and past injury, cross-dresssing, dom!Joe, fabrics, feathers - Freeform, fur coats and lingerie, prostitution AU, switchy!Greg, vague D/s, weird au</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:34:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,311</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24699694</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sashataakheru/pseuds/Sashataakheru</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Joe knows he's special, even if he's special only because of his wings. And special is a bit of a misnomer because everyone else's definition of his specialness is that he's a freak who's no good for anything other than sex work. He is very tired of people fetishising his wings, and that includes tonight's client, an important and very wealthy man who could have them shut down if he's not satisfied. So, no fucking pressure then.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Greg Davies/Joe Lycett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Season of Kink</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Just One Night With You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for Season of Kink Round Seven for the prompt 'fabrics/feathers'. <a href="https://3evilmuses.dreamwidth.org/85332.html">Card and fills are here.</a></p><p>Vaguely inspired vibe/aesthetics-wise by the Radio 4 adaptation of Nights At The Circus by Angela Carter. bc Roisin Conaty with wings yes plz. And that story is a Whole Mood ngl. I need to listen to that again.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was something so exquisite about the feeling of lace on his skin. This new set of lingerie was especially luxurious, but then it should be, given how much he charges his clients. He was due to meet a very distinguished client tonight, so only the best would do. Black satin trim, black lace, and a stunning leather corset. Matched, of course, with his best black heels that always made him feel 7 foot tall. He'd spent two days cleaning his wings just so they were in the best condition for tonight's performance. They were a shiny iridescent deep blue, with a multitude of colours that shone in the light. They weren't his preferred colour, of course, but it's not like he chose his wings to be this colour. It just limited his clothing options. His wings had to match his outfit or what was the point in using them to accentuate his clothes?</p><p>He stood facing the floor-length mirror and took in his appearance. The garters weren't quite right, he decided, and slipped them off to switch them out for a plainer pair. Hmm, no, the stockings weren't quite right either. The lace trim didn't match the way he liked. They would have to go too. But the rest looked very good so far. </p><p>Once he'd replaced the stockings, and decided to switch out his panties for a pair that better showed off his assets, he felt the outfit was done. He stretched his wings out a little, just to check his range of motion and decided they were fine. Now all he needed to do was decide on a collar. He wasn't necessarily a kinky dominatrix. Not really. Some of his clients just liked the look of it, but he could wield a whip like the best of them, since, after all, they'd trained him. It was a skill he needed to have to be successful in this house. Madame Sally insisted on it. </p><p>This client tonight though, he didn't know if he'd want kink. Sally hadn't told him much, just that he was a Lord, and also very important to keep happy if they still wanted to be here next week. Joe understood what that meant, and didn't need to be told twice to put on the best show of his life. She said he'd been only once before, and might appreciate the outfit as much as Joe himself. But whether that signalled that he was kinky, Joe didn't know. </p><p>He went to his dresser and pulled out his collars. They weren't all leather bondage collars, of course. Some were purely decorative nonsense. But if this client would appreciate the clothes as much as the man, he'd have to pick something really special. Something with texture, and luxury, and sensation.</p><p>"I wonder if he'd like the one with the..." Joe muttered to himself as he put the collars away and reached instead for his jewellery box. He opened it, and fished around in it before he pulled out a diamonte choker with a small sapphire drop. He put it on and went back to the mirror. He liked what he saw.</p><p>"Oh, yes, that's definitely it! But in that case, maybe the lace corset..." </p><p>Joe switched corsets, opting instead for a corset in black velvet and lace that had little gems sewn into the fabric, as well as little silver threads holding the lace on. It exposed his stomach and back with the lacing, and looked incredible, sitting up just under his breasts and comfortably around his wings. Did he need anything else? </p><p>He went to the door and called out into the corridor. "Sally! Need your final approval, love!"</p><p>"Coming, darling!" came the reply.</p><p>Joe stood back to take in his outfit. Sally sooned joined him, and stood beside him. She was dressed in a rich dark red gown and her hair was up in a ridiculous bun, but she looked stunning. </p><p>"So, what do you think? Will this please our Lordship?" Joe asked.</p><p>Sally looked him over. "Hmm. I'd have gone with the thigh highs rather than stockings, darling. You know the ones, right? The velvet ones? I think that'd look much better." </p><p>"Oh, you think so? Hmm, alright." Joe went to fetch the boots and sat down to put them on after removing the stockings and garters, since he didn't like wearing them together with these particular boots. When he was done, he stood up and returned to the mirror to look himself over.</p><p>"Better?" Joe asked.</p><p>"Oh yes, that's it. Finish it off with a fur coat, will you? Which ones do you have anyway?" Sally asked as she went to his wardrobe to look at the coats he had.</p><p>"I think it's got to be one of the neutral ones, yes? Full length? Or is that too much? I do have some wraps as well, if that would also work," Joe said.</p><p>To be fair, they weren't all real fur, because real fur was rare and hard to come by on his wages, but his clients by and large didn't mind that some of his luscious coats were synthetic. They weren't into the fabric, just the look. They'd also all been tailor made to fit over his wings. Not that he minded, of course, because he was quite used to living with them now. It's not that he couldn't just use his wings, but they weren't quite big enough for that sort of thing. He couldn't fly with them, for one. They just looked pretty. In a pinch, they could warm his shoulders. So he was still an easy target for bullying because he couldn't fly. Hence, he'd ended up in a brothel with his high pay rates only because there were enough filthy perverts in this city with the kind of money he was willing to accept to let them touch his wings. Which they all wanted to do, the pricks. In another life, he'd have been a royal fucking cortesan, not a freak whore no one cared for. </p><p>"He won't want real fur, will he? Is he posh enough to want real fur?" Joe said as he went to help Sally pick out a coat.</p><p>"I don't know, maybe." Sally held two coats and was clearly trying to decide between them. "Here, try these two on for me."</p><p>"Alright bab," Joe said as he took the coats. </p><p>One was a cream coloured real fur coat, knee-length, while the other was a grey coat, synthetic, with a ridiculously long train. He put the first one on, loving the way the satin lining felt against his skin. </p><p>"Ooh, yes, I think this might be the one," Joe said.</p><p>Sally turned to look at him. "Oh yes, definitely. That's it. That's the look." </p><p>"Yes, that's it. When's he due anyway? Soon, right?" Joe said.</p><p>Sally looked at her watch. "Yeah, he'll be here soon. Go and wait in the Ballroom. He's booked it all night. Don't fuck this up, or I'll have to kick you out again."</p><p>"Yes, ma'am! Don't worry, I'm not a dumb 20 year old anymore. I'll be on my best behaviour," Joe said.</p><p>Sally glared at him. "You'd better be. He'll tear down this club and build a road over it if you're not. Understood?"</p><p>Joe nodded. "Understood."</p><p>"Good. Now get out of here. You've got a long night ahead of you," Sally said.</p>
<hr/><p>Joe didn't waste any time heading up to the Ballroom. It was the largest room in the house, on the top floor. It was also the most richly decorated, reserved for only the richest clients. It had, possibly, once been an actual ballroom, but Joe was never entirely sure. He just knew it was big enough to dance in, which he appreciated, given that some of his clients did indeed like him to dance. There was a huge four poster bed, some subtle bondage furniture, luxurious carpets, a luxurious bathroom attached to it, and a toy chest or two, and a drinks cabinet. Oh, and a pair of very nice chaise lounges. Some erotic art done up to look like old regal paintings in ornate gold frames had been hung around the room too. </p><p>Joe shut the door and began lighting the candles. There were proper lights too, but the candles were always the most effective at making this room feel just right. He prepared some drinks, leaving a bottle of good champagne in an ice bucket, and settled down on the bed, lounging evocatively as he waited for his client to arrive. Not that he had to wait long. He heard the footsteps outside before long and there, in the doorway, stood a man, well. Most of a man. He had to duck through the door, and fuck was he enormous. Middle-aged, perhaps. He definitely gave off the aura of a powerful man at any rate, but Joe noticed there was definitely something more humble lying underneath that dominance. It was the way he entered. He didn't charge in like he owned the place, but stepped in respectfully, as if he understood he was the guest here tonight, not the host. </p><p>"Well, hello my Lord, welcome to the Ballroom. I'm Josie. I'll be your host for this evening," Joe said, unable to help running his hand up his leg in a teasing way.</p><p>"Well, aren't you a looker? Sally did say you were cute. Fuck. You're definitely not going to take this lying down like the others are you?" the man said. His tone was confident, but not domineering.</p><p>Joe raised an eyebrow and sat up. "Oh, I'm no pushover, my Lord. I don't get paid to let others beat me. I'm the one doing the beating. And that's not negotiable. Now are you going to get on your knees or not, my Lord?" </p><p>The man looked at him curiously as he took his coat off and tossed it onto one of the lounges. "And what makes you think I'm going to kneel for you?" </p><p>Joe rose to his feet, confident as anything, noticing the lack of spite in his tone. "Because, my dear Lord, that's the only way I'm going to let you touch my wings. You want a fuck? Fine, you can have one. But you'll get on your knees like a good boy first."</p><p>The man seemed to think about this but Joe could tell he wasn't going to put up a fight as he began undressing, his body language changing from one of power and dominance to submission. Joe was pleased he'd been able to read him that well, though of course he was always on the look-out for signs of manipulation. The worst men he'd ever been with were the ones who made themselves look vulnerable to put him off his guard before they fucked him over. They were the real sadists. </p><p>"What's your name, boy?" Joe said as he scrutinised him. </p><p>The man turned to him. "Greg. That's all you need to know."</p><p>"Well, Greg, what kind of fucked up shit do you like? No one hires me without knowing what I specialise in. So what's it to be?" Joe said.</p><p>Greg reached out to touch Joe's coat but pulled his hand away at the last minute and turned away as he slipped his trousers off. "Oh, you know..."</p><p>"No, I don't know. Sally said you liked the clothes as much as the man. What do you want me to do with that, hmm? Dress you up and fuck you senseless? Not sure I have anything in your size though," Joe said.</p><p>Greg made a point of carefully folding his clothes and leaving them on the lounge before he came and knelt before him, bowing his head. </p><p>"I just like- Don't undress, please, I want to feel all of you, not just your skin," Greg said.</p><p>"Got a clothes fetish, have you? Well, I've had worse. What else do you want me to do to you, apart from wreck my precious fucking wings?" Joe said.</p><p>Greg seemed to shrink before his very eyes as he resolutely stared at the ground. He was even more submissive than Joe had anticipated. He hadn't expected to be Domming tonight, and wasn't sure what to do with that. He didn't like Domming on a whim. It made for bad scenes because the proper preparations hadn't been given enough time.</p><p>"Well, I do want to touch your wings, of course, but not like the others. I just want to touch them. Gently. I love feeling feathers on my skin. I love touch. Being touched, I mean. Just touch me. That's all I need tonight," Greg said.</p><p>Joe paused, surprised by his tone. He hadn't expected him to say that. Maybe he really was different. He walked around him, stopping to brush a finger across his back as he noticed some interesting scarring halfway down his back. He knelt down and slipped his coat off so he could brush that scar with his wingtip. He saw Greg shiver, and he rested his hands on his shoulders as he leaned in to whisper to him.</p><p>"Well, well, a true admirer. That's special. Don't get the likes of you round here. Usually they just want to tug at my wings and come all over them. But you're not like that. Why's that, I wonder?" Joe said.</p><p>"Because I'm not here to own you. Just experience you. Touch you, if you'll let me. Do they feel good to you? Your wings? Do they give you pleasure? I've always wondered that. Do they feel things, or do they just sit there?" Greg said, looking back over his shoulder at him.</p><p>Joe wrapped his arms around his chest possessively. It would also help him contain him if he decided to get violent. "Yes, they feel things. Good things. And bad things. They're quite sensitive now thanks to thousands of arseholes pulling my wings and wrecking my nerves. I drug the pain out so I can get through sessions so now I feel nothing. It's better than the pain of them pulling feathers out for souvenirs."</p><p>"I know. I've heard the bragging, seen the feathers. They always look so dull and lifeless. I can't imagine how much that hurts. I don't know why people would do that to you. You're so beautiful," Greg murmured.</p><p>Joe shrugged helplessly. "I'm a freak, Greg. I can't fly. I can't escape. So when some bastard pins me down to fuck me and come all over my wings, there's nothing to stop them pulling a feather out to take home, so they can prove to their mates that they shagged the birdman. That is my life, my Lord, so you'll excuse me for setting the terms of our engagement right from the start."</p><p>Greg shifted around to face him and pulled him into a soft, gentle hug. Joe noted he'd been very careful to avoid touching his wings. Joe didn't know how to accept it at first and didn't quite hug him back. He wasn't used to his clients caring about him. That wasn't how things went. He wasn't there to be loved. Just fucked. That's how things worked. </p><p>"I don't want to cause you any pain. I won't touch your wings if you don't want me to. I just- what makes you feel good? I want to make you feel good," Greg said.</p><p>Joe laughed. "I'm not here for that sort of bullshit. I'm not your lover. You're paying <em>me</em> for my time, that's all. No one pays for me to make <em>me</em> feel good. They pay me to make <em>them</em> feel good. That's what I'm good at because I can't <em>fucking</em> do anything else, alright?" </p><p>Greg pulled away from him then and stood up, moving over to his clothes. "No, you're right. That was stupid. I'm sorry. I guess I just wanted to know you were real. To see what you were really like." He turned to face him. "Come on, get up. Let me love you tonight, just once. Let me give you a night you'll actually enjoy."</p><p>"You fucking serious? Fuck off. No one wants to make me feel good. I don't even know what makes me feel good, because no one's ever bothered to find out," Joe said, laughing off the suggestion.</p><p>Greg offered his hand. "Then maybe it's about time someone found out, hmm?" </p><p>Joe was not at all convinced, but since he was, in his own way, obliged to do what his client wanted, he took his hand and let Greg help him to his feet. "Alright, fine. Do your worst."</p><p>Greg touched his cheek softly and held his gaze. "I don't want to do my worst. I want to do my best. Come on, come to bed. And if you hate it and want me to stop, I'll stop, alright?"</p><p>"Yeah, I've heard that before," Joe muttered under his breath. "Alright, sure. Let's get this over with."</p>
<hr/><p>Joe was absolutely not at all used to being cuddled, let alone kissed, let alone treated with such tenderness. Greg was clearly turned on by him, and Joe was fine with that, but he wasn't at all pushy. He just let Joe lie in his arms and get used to his touch. They hadn't really done much more than that for the past hour or so, and Joe was sort of thankful for it. He was still on edge, but Greg seemed to know how to make him feel safe and relaxed, and they'd mostly just been talking. Joe wouldn't normally open up to anyone as much as he'd opened up to Greg, but he seemed in no hurry to get off, and honestly, the way he was gently caressing his wing felt really fucking amazing. </p><p>"Do you ever think about why you were born with wings?" Greg asked.</p><p>"I used to, as a kid, but not anymore. Society was quick to make me understand that these were a curse, and I hated them. I'd have cut them off if I'd been able to. But they kept growing back overnight every time I managed to hack off bits of feather. I'm stuck with them. Now they're the only way I make money in this godforsaken world," Joe said.</p><p>Greg kissed his forehead softly, much like his dad used to do before he fucking left because he didn't want to raise a freak of a boy any longer. The memory brought an unwanted lood of emotions to him, and he flinched, which Greg absolutely noticed. He let him go and sat up.</p><p>"Sorry, did I hurt you? I can go if you like. I don't want to upset you," Greg said.</p><p>Joe laughed off the memory. "No, no, just my usual cascade of fucking trauma. No big deal. Don't - don't be <em>fatherly</em>, alright? I can't take it. It's too painful. And of course I didn't know it would be painful until you fucking did it. Fuck. I'm a fucking wreck. Fuck."</p><p>Greg pulled him into a gentle hug. "I'm so sorry you've been hurt so much. Do you want me to leave? I don't want to make this worse for you."</p><p>Joe clung to him then, aghast at the idea he'd be left alone yet again. The urge had come on so strong he hadn't had time to realise it before it happened. "No, no, don't leave. I'd rather spend the night with someone who's not going to hurt me than anyone else. If you leave, I'll get another booking, and I can't face another booking tonight."</p><p>"Then I guess I'll stay then. Lie down, please, Josie-"</p><p>Joe cut him off. "Joe. Please. It's Joe. Call me Joe. I don't want to be Josie tonight."</p><p>"Very well then. Joe, please lie down. Let me take care of you tonight," Greg said.</p><p>Joe nodded. "Yes, please."</p>
<hr/><p>Greg's big hands were massaging his feet. Greg had gently taken his boots off, which Joe did appreciate. He didn't often get to walk barefoot. And, God, the way Greg was working his feet was sublime. He had no idea his feet didn't have to hurt. He thought he'd just got used to it. It was just part of his life. </p><p>Joe sighed happily and closed his eyes. Greg hadn't spoken much. He'd just spent the last half an hour maybe massaging him. And not in an erotic way, either. He was definitely going to miss feeling like this once Greg left. But at least he would feel good for one night at least. </p><p>"Is there anywhere else I can massage you, Joe?" Greg asked.</p><p>"I don't know, I mean. I fucking ache everywhere, that's just what this life does to you. It won't go away. Bastards like to hurt me too much. Never really heal, just get used to the pain- ow!" Joe cried out at a stab of pain in the middle of the sole of his foot and Greg let go immediately. "Ahh, fuck! Fuck that hurts. Jesus."</p><p>"I'm so sorry! I didn't know it was tender there," Greg said.</p><p>"Quit apologising for my tired body. That's not your fault. It's just how I am. I just forget where I hurt because I hurt everywhere. I have bruises on bruises, and scars on top of scars. That's just my life," Joe said.</p><p>Greg lifted his foot and kissed the sore spot. "I'm so sorry. I'll stop."</p><p>"Oh, fuck off, what'd I tell you about apologising?" Joe said.</p><p>Greg lay down beside him and Joe turned to look at him. "It's clear you're not yet ready to be touched, and that's okay. I won't force the issue if it's just going to hurt you."</p><p>"Yeah, well, just don't tell Sally I've disappointed you. I'm not in the mood to deal with the fallout right now," Joe said.</p><p>"Who said you'd disappointed me? Can I cuddle you again? I think you need it," Greg said.</p><p>Joe sighed. "Yeah, alright, you do cuddle me very well."</p><p>Greg smiled, and Joe let himself be pulled into his arms and held close to him. It was a strange feeling. Greg was so big and warm, and clearly capable of doing him tremendous harm if he wanted to, but his body was relaxed and at ease. Joe could feel his grip was loose enough that Joe could escape if he wanted to. Greg wasn't forcing him to stay close, just encouraging it. And Joe found he really wanted to. Just the very thought that someone wanted to cuddle him was extraordinary, and he was fragile enough right now to know he needed it. He shivered as he felt Greg begin stroking his hair with a hand, and it was the kind of affection he'd never experienced before. It felt so nice.</p><p>"Can I stroke your wings? Just gently, of course. I don't want to ruin them, though. They're so beautiful," Greg said.</p><p>"If it feels as good as the way you're stroking my hair, then sure, go ahead," Joe said, curious about what that would feel like. </p><p>Greg softly kissed him before letting his hand stray down to one of his wings. Joe could feel the contact, even if it was so very slight. And it felt indescribably good. Greg kept stroking his wing, slowly, softly, almost barely touching him, and Joe found himself clinging to Greg, not expecting it to feel not just that good, but also that arousing. He didn't know if it was simply being touched that was doing this to him, or just his wings, but he didn't care. He felt amazing. </p><p>"Does it feel good, Joe?" Greg asked.</p><p>Joe nodded. "Oh, fuck yes. Don't stop, though, I was enjoying that."</p><p>"Yes, I can tell, I can feel your dick pressing into my stomach," Greg said.</p><p>"You fucking tart, you," Joe teased, unwilling to apologise for it. </p><p>Greg laughed and returned to stroking his wing again, this time touching him a little more confidently. "I'm going to make you come, one way or another, because I think you deserve that much from me at the very least for taking up your time like this."</p><p>"Well, I should think so. I swear this job should come with danger money, the number of brutes I have to pretend to like. Fucking hell," Joe said. "Just make it fucking legal so I can get them all arrested, yeah?"</p><p>"Save it, feather boy. I'm not here for that. Shut up and let me work. That cock of yours needs some attention, as do your wings," Greg said.</p><p>Joe gave a dramatic sigh, but gave in. After all, he was getting hard, and the way Greg was simply stroking his wings felt so wonderful. Greg's hands soon began wandering further too, though there was always one hand touching his wings. Joe was surprised that Greg did actually seem to be into the clothes he was wearing. He wasn't undressing him, save for his boots. In fact, he was stroking his corset with lust in his eyes, and not the kind of lust that suggested he wanted Joe to take it off, either. His fingers traced the lacing covering his stomach, and over his back, and combined with the sensations coming from his wings, he was sure he'd never felt this aroused before. </p><p>"If you think I'm simply going to get you off and leave, though, you've got another thing coming. That's not what this is about tonight," Greg said.</p><p>"Oh, god, fuck <em>off</em>, will you?" Joe whined, and not just because his pants were very tight now.</p><p>Greg didn't reply and simply kissed him as he continued stroking his wings. </p>
<hr/><p>Joe was, in a word, mewling. He was mewling because he was supporting himself against the bedhead as Greg made him stretch out his wings so he could care for them. And fucking hell did his stroking feel so much more intense when his wings were spread. A hand had also strayed between his legs to tease his cock.</p><p>Joe shivered then as Greg began stroking each individual feather, combing them with his fingers. Joe had never expected that would feel so good. But then it had been fucking <em>hours</em> now and he'd never felt this good for so long before. A chill went through his wings and straight up his spine as Greg gently blew on the fine feathers covering the wing bones. </p><p>"Oh, did that feel good, did it?" Greg said.</p><p>"Shut up and do it again, alright?" Joe snapped. </p><p>"As you wish, sir," Greg said, his tone suggesting no sarcasm at all, as he blew on his wings again.</p><p>Joe shivered, shutting his eyes tight as the pleasure went straight to his dick. He honestly wasn't sure who was in charge anymore, and he didn't really feel like arguing about it. But he wasn't going to simply submit to him either. He didn't submit. That was for other boys. Greg might want to order him about, but Joe wasn't going to give in. </p><p>Alright, sure, there was a certain ... submissiveness that this job required at times, but Joe prided himself on being in control the whole time, even if it meant letting them fuck him. He wasn't a precious shy little kitten who got ordered about by their clients, and he always made sure they knew that. If they wanted to even touch him, they had to abide by his rules. </p><p>He stopped thinking about his job then as Greg once again blew on his wings. He didn't want to let go, to let himself get lost in all this pleasure, because he wasn't sure what might happen if he gave in to that extent. He didn't like relinquishing control. Bad things happened when he let someone else be in charge. He flinched as Greg wrapped his arms around his chest, leaning in to whisper to him.</p><p>"Are you going to let me make you come yet? Or are you still holding off?" Greg said after kissing the back of his neck softly.</p><p>"Oh, fuck off, that's not your job," Joe said abrasively. </p><p>"Let me rephrase that. Are you ready to come yet?" Greg said.</p><p>Joe was definitely getting close, given how Greg was stroking his cock gently. He still hadn't taken off his pants, just slipped his cock out, and it was hard as fuck and leaking badly. He was definitely ready, but ready implied giving in, and he wasn't ready to give in yet.</p><p>"I decide when I'm ready. And it won't be like this," Joe said.</p><p>"Well, how do you want to come, then? Should I make you fly?" Greg said.</p><p>Joe laughed. "I told you, I can't fucking fly. Don't rub it in, alright? Fuck off."</p><p>"Sorry, I didn't mean to hit a nerve. But I am very good with ropes, and I daresay you've never been on the receiving end before, yeah?" Greg said.</p><p>"I'm not interested in ropes, silly boy. Just reminds me what I can't do. Try again," Joe said.</p><p>Greg ran his fingers along Joe's wing bones. "Alright, I'll drop it. Do you need a break? I feel like I'm just annoying you now."</p><p>Joe shivered. "Just give me some space. I don't like being cornered."</p><p>Greg backed off immediately. "Alright. I feel like a smoke anyway. It seems I've overwhelmed you. I'll be on the balcony if you want to continue."</p><p>"Sure, whatever," Joe said, feeling him leave the bed. </p>
<hr/><p>To be honest, Joe appreciated the breather. He needed to get his head straight. Once he was alone, and the faint scent of cigar smoke drifted into the room, he got up and poured himself a gin. He might have poured himself another one after that too. Fuck. This had not gone at all as planned. Greg had unnerved him to the point where he didn't know how to take back control like he should be doing. </p><p>"I'm such a fucking idiot. Fuck. Why is it I can deal with all the fucking arseholes, but not this guy? Jesus." Joe sighed heavily and set his glass down, deciding against another drink. "At least he hasn't really hurt me. Just knocked me off balance. Fuck."</p><p>He stared at the wall, trying to decide the best course of action. He had to regain control. Had to put this man in his place. At his feet. No more fucking seduction. Just kneeling like a good fucking boy until Joe was ready to let him go. That's what he had to do.</p>
<hr/><p>"I'm not going to do anything more until you're on your fucking knees, boy," Joe said as he walked out onto the balcony. He'd put his boots back on, because they were fucking amazing, and he might step on this boy if he irritated him enough. It also helped him feel dominant again, and he needed that. He was not going to let this man fuck him over again. </p><p>Greg turned to look at him and simply sank to his knees in front of him, bowing his head. "As you wish, sir."</p><p>Joe was surprised that he was still naked, save for a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He removed that and let the cool air hit his skin. </p><p>"You know what I hate more than anything else in the world?" Joe said.</p><p>"No, sir, I don't," Greg said.</p><p>"Pricks like you coming into <em>my space</em> and presuming you know what the fuck I want without even daring to ask me. How fucking rude. And you're not the first who wanted to charm me like a lover, though you are the first who's been considerate about it. But I'm not a prize to be won. I'm just a fucking whore, here to make you feel good. That's it. That's the extent of our relationship. Understood?" Joe said.</p><p>"Yes, sir, understood. So what do you want then?" Greg said.</p><p>"I mean, right fucking now, I could do with a long hot bath and not to see any more fucking clients for a month, but I don't get that sort of choice, do I? No. So I'll settle for a blow job and then not letting you come because fuck you and your presumptions, alright?" Joe said.</p><p>"Of course, sir. That's completely fair. I'm sorry if I've upset you. I should have asked, instead of presumed," Greg said.</p><p>"Yeah, you fucking should have asked, you prick. Get your mouth on my cock and maybe I'll forgive you when I kick you out at dawn," Joe said as he got his cock out. </p><p>"Yes, sir," Greg said.</p><p>Greg shuffled a little closer to him before he settled down and took his cock into his mouth with no complaint. Joe grasped his hair and spread his wings a little, instantly feeling better as Greg began to suck him off. He did need calming, that's for sure. Greg had got him all worked up and he wasn't sure he'd be ready to deal with him until he'd come. </p><p>Joe wasn't expecting much, if he was honest. Most men were shit at blow jobs, which he knew from years of experience. But Greg turned out to not be shit. He seemed able to understand just from the noises and the way Joe was squirming, what was feeling good and what to do more of. Not that it lasted very long, though. He hadn't been far off coming to begin with, so it didn't take long for Greg to suck him over the line, and he was only sort of aware of Greg pulling off him as Joe came, giving him space to come all over him instead. </p><p>Joe steadied himself against Greg's head as he caught his breath, letting the orgasm dissipate. Fuck that had been far too good for his liking. He might have swiped at his head in spite as he stood and walked away from him, leaning against the balcony.</p><p>"Thank you, boy. That was- good. Thank you," Joe said, feeling less angry now than he had been. </p><p>"Just wanted to make sure you felt as good as possible. I can go now if you want. I don't need to be here if it's just going to irritate you," Greg said.</p><p>Joe turned to him. "No, no, you can stay. It's alright. You just fucked with my head and I don't like not being in control. But you do seem like a sweet man, so I can't really me that cross with you."</p><p>Greg smiled. "Well, that's good to know."</p><p>"Get up. You'll get too cold out here," Joe said, leaning down to grab the blanket. </p><p>Greg got to his feet and bowed to him. "Thank you, sir."</p><p>Joe spanked his butt. "Go on, shoo, inside, you harlot!" </p><p>Greg laughed as he headed inside, which just made Joe laugh too as he chased him, stopping only to close the balcony doors behind him. </p>
<hr/><p>"I'm going to book you for a month," Greg said as he stared up at the ceiling.</p><p>"You fucking are not," Joe said.</p><p>"Joe, I'm a very rich man. If I want to book you for a month, that's what's going to happen. I won't stop by all the time though. I just thought you might want a break for a while. No clients for a month, wasn't that what you wanted?" Greg said.</p><p>Joe scowled. "Well, technically, yes, but fucking hell, you weren't meant to <em>actually do that</em>. Fucking hell."</p><p>"Sally won't mind. I'll pay her extra for taking you out of commission. I can do whatever I like with my time with you, yeah?" Greg said.</p><p>Joe sighed. "I mean, yeah, of course, but-"</p><p>"Then I'll bring my personal masseur in to rub you down and take care of your body properly. You wanted time for your body to heal, right?" Greg said.</p><p>"I guess," Joe said reluctantly.</p><p>"Well, there you go then. And if after a month you want me to fuck off, I'll fuck off and you'll never see me again. And I promise I won't have you all evicted. I'll make sure you're protected. I'll stop the police raids. I'll make the developments go away," Greg said.</p><p>"That sounds very much like blackmail, sir," Joe said. </p><p>"Sure, but it's not, trust me. I'm not here to threaten you. Just make sure you're okay. I don't think I want anyone pulling your feathers out anymore, you know?" Greg said.</p><p>Joe sat up and turned over to look at him. "You serious?"</p><p>"Of course," Greg said, reaching up to brush the back of his fingers against Joe's wing, which made him shiver. "I'm not here to make you fall in love with me, of course. I just think it's time you had a better life. Agreed?"</p><p>"Sure, but I'm going to hold you to that, alright? No funny business. No raids. No fucking seduction, alright? I belong to no one, least of all you," Joe said.</p><p>"I'd never dare try to own you. You deserve better than that," Greg said.</p><p>"Good. Alright. Well. Fine. You can buy me for a month. But I'm making absolutely no promises about anything. And you're the one dealing with Sally, since you're taking her prize whore out of action for a month, and she really won't like that," Joe said.</p><p>"Don't worry about Sally. I'll bring her round. For now, I think I want to cuddle you again," Greg said.</p><p>Joe sighed. "Alright, fine, you can cuddle me."</p><p>Joe lay down again, not as reluctant as he sounded. Greg, after all, did give amazing cuddles. For once in his life, he actually felt safe being held, and he might have laid his head down on Greg's chest as Greg held him close and gently stroked his wings. Fuck did that feel amazing. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad month, after all.</p>
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